From:vlaDeSH
To:*Galactic-Enquirer
Stardate:20011123.2334
Subject:Imperial Trial

*** GNN NEWS FLASH ***

Roger McDonald lifts his head towards the camera, a pad in his hand, a grim expression on his face, his eyes narrowed as he stares with a perturbed gaze at his observing audience.

"Good-evening ladies and gentlemen. This just in from the Klingon Imperial news-wire.

GNN is the first to bring the galaxy live coverage of disturbing and recent events unfolding within the very heart of the Klingon Empire in leu of the rogue Klingon's, LoS', escape."

The screen quickly blips to black and moments later is replaced by the insignia of the Klingon Empire. A great emblem, painted in red, gold, and green, its background as sable as a starless night, and its curves oblique and sharp.

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Moments later, it fades, replaced by a dim chamber whose light comes only from three sources, faint rays that pass with a translucent quality, filled with filtering dust-particles, as they graze a single, high-vaulted dais and a great chair of office mounted there upon. A Klingon, garbed in long robes, hooded, his beard twisted and knotted, grayed and silvered with age, stares coldly from a heightened angle. About his right hand is a metallic-like glove, and in it a single sphere of metal, a gavel supported by a base of steel.

Smacking it loudly upon the arm of his chair, sparks flung in blue iridescence from its ringing surface, he bellows in Klingon, a translation quickly provided by all stations' universal translators:

"Cousins of LoS, son of B'Vayn, by order of the High Council your family is charged with dishonor against the Empire and treason against its governing body. It is our custom that one Klingon's actions speak for the blood-line of his House and, in this case, the treachery that must lie within their dark hearts. It is my solemn duty to resign you to your deaths, to withhold you from entrance into Stovokor, By the power invested in me, I pronounce you guilty of your crimes and sentence you to death by execution: to be carried out immediately in Veng Square."

Once again the gavel is brought down, slamning against its metallic base, bright flames leaping from beneath it. And, as it is, the camera pans to display some thirty-odd Klingons, females and males alike, gathered together and surrounded by armed Imperial guards. Disrupters aimed at them, they are lead outside of the great hall they've been tried in, the screen soon after fading to a grim and morbid black.

Once more Roger McDonald appears, his head shaking with some dismay, and nodding finally to his audience, he says, "This has been a GNN Special Report."